


Time Is Relative

by SubtextEquals



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Spoilers for Shards of Time)</p>
<p>Over a hundred years has passed since Seregil and Alec first met and their age is catching up with them. But try explaining that to Seregil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Is Relative

So far, the robbery had been uncomplicated. It was an easy job compared to what they’d done in the past and an order by the Queen. Alec and Seregil were to look for any signs of treachery in a Duke’s correspondence—and they had found one such a sign in a letter hidden away in a secret compartment. It was written in cypher and Seregil had hastily decrypted it and copied the original contents. Then both of them scaled down the house and walked past the guard dog, having distracted it with a hastily thrown treat. Alec threw it a nervous glance before Seregil motioned for Alec to give him a boost up.

Alec had just finished climbing over the wall himself when he heard a thump as Seregil landed—badly, judging by his muffled yell. Alec quickly got down, managing not to injure himself, unlike Seregil, whose hand was on his back before he spotted his lover looking at him and pulled it away.

_Are you hurt?_ Alec signed. He pulled on the grappling hook and rolled up the rope they’d climbed down on.

Seregil shook his head and set off back toward the Cockerel Inn but his gait was more hobbled than it had been on their way to the Duke’s home.

Sighing, Alec kept an eye out for blue coats but they didn’t see any. It wasn’t until they stepped safely inside the Cockerel that Seregil let out a rapid burst of curses, half Skalan, half Aurënfaie.

“What did you do?” Alec pulled off his black hood and reached for Seregil’s back.

Seregil waved him off. “Lost my grip on the rope halfway down. Bilairy’s balls. I need to lie down.”

They ascended the stairs to their rooms. Seregil snapped out each of the passwords as they went. As soon as Seregil opened the door there was a flurry of movement as their cat, who had been curled up, ran to the window and away from the clatter of boots. Seregil stomped unevenly to the bed, pulled off his boots, and flung himself on it without even taking off his black leathers.

Alec, meanwhile, was eager to be out of his sweaty clothes and stripped as he closed the door shut with his foot.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Ever since their first trip to Kouros and the demon attack Seregil had suffered there, the older ‘faie had been more prone to back pains and as the years passed he could easily throw it out. This wasn’t the first time it had caused him trouble after nightrunning.

Or during.

“I need to lie down. That’s all.”

“Get out of those clothes first. You’ll thank me tomorrow if they’re as filthy as mine.” Alec finished pulling his garments off and set them away.

When he looked back, Seregil was slowly pushing himself up. He’d pulled off his hood. Alec watched as his lover disrobed. His body had changed over the years. Even with their night time activities, Seregil had put on some weight though overall still maintained his lithe frame. His skin was more weathered. As for his face, the lines on it, along with the streaks of white in his hair, betrayed his age, in Aurënfaie years if not Tírfaie. No one without ‘faie blood would have reached the age either of them were now.

None of that stopped Alec from seeing his beauty and he was sure it was the same for Seregil when the full blooded ‘faie looked at his ya’shel talímenios.

“I’m not getting up.” Seregil said as he removed the last of his clothes. “Here.” He tossed them to Alec, who put them next to his own, after removing the tool roll and copied letter.

“Talí.” Alec started as he carefully crawled into bed beside Seregil.

“I’m fine.” He said tersely.

Alec pulled the cover over them both. He wasn’t going to curl up against Seregil until the man wrapped his arm around him and pulled him near.

Alec rested his head in the crook of Seregil’s neck. “Seregil—”

“Don’t.”

They’d had this conversation before, the last time had come when Seregil had sprained his ankle, and the older ‘faie must have read the tone in Alec’s voice.

Alec didn’t care to press the issue now, when Seregil was in this much pain.

“Alright.”

 

In the morning, Alec rose quietly, taking care not to jostle the bed. Still, after dressing, he looked back and saw that Seregil’s brow was creased and his hand was pressed to his face.

“Talí?”

“Bath.”

After soaking, Seregil’s mood improved but it seemed the pain hadn’t.

Alec breathed a heavy sigh as he watched Seregil grimace when the older ‘faie laced his boots.

“We can’t keep doing this. How long have you been nightrunning?” Alec spoke.

“A hundred and seventy years and, Illior willing, I’m not stopping now. Leave it.” Seregil sat up.

“You’re two hundred and nine.”

“And I’ll live at least another two hundred years.” Seregil stood. “Let’s deliver our ill-gotten goods to Thero.”

 

Thero was younger than Seregil and older than Alec and he looked worse than both of them. Klia’s death had been a hard blow to all of them but Thero most of all. Alec suspected that all that had kept him going was his children, grandchildren, and his then apprentice, Mika.

They found Thero alone in his chambers, drawing in the air with his wand. He stowed it away when they entered.

“Were you successful?”

“I’m fine, Thero. How are you?” Seregil replied.

Alec retrieved the letter as well as a translation from within his coat. “As you thought, Duke Travius has been sending information about the Queen and her court to the Plenimarans.”

“Good work. I will speak with Idrilain tonight.” Thero took the letters from Alec once they brushed against his fingertips.

Seregil made a noise of pain at that moment.

Thero paused. “Hurt yourself again, Seregil?”

Seregil, who had been holding himself awkwardly, attempted to straighten his back. “It went perfectly.”

“How is Mika and his apprentice?” Alec asked to quickly change the subject before Thero made things worse.

They spent time catching up with Thero. Apparently Mika’s apprentice, Rald, was a handful and they were frequently at odds. Seregil shot his friend a wry grin, though he could not see it, and asked if the situation sounded familiar.

They spoke of Plenimar and current tensions before taking their leave and mounting their horses.

“He’s turning into a cold fish again.” Seregil commented.

“Age can do that.” Alec said calmly.

Seregil dug in his heels and his mount shot farther ahead. Alec urged his horse on and caught up with him.

“Talí, I don’t like it any more than you do, but we can’t keep avoiding this.”

“Not here.”

Once again, they were quiet until they returned to their room in the Cockerel. Then Seregil folded his arms and stared at his lover.

“We’re nightrunners, Alec.”

“That’s not all we are. You said we have two hundred years left and I’m not going to cut that short by getting caught and sent to the tower.”

Seregil let out a sharp breath, both from disagreement and pain, and crossed the room to go to their bed.

“You knew we couldn’t do this forever. We’ve talked about retiring before.” Alec followed him and watched as his lover spread out over the bed. “We have retired before.” He continued. “Would it be so terrible?”

Seregil stared up at the canopy of the bed before looking back at Alec. “Not like this, talí.”

Alec walked to the bed and sat down at the edge of it, by Seregil’s feet. “We can’t be young forever.” He pulled off one of his talímenios’s boots. “I’ll miss it too.”

Seregil flashed him a crooked grin. “You could keep going without me. You’re only a hundred and sixty seven.”

“I’m not that far behind.” Alec pulled off the other boot.

Forty some years no longer seemed to matter as much. Seregil would always be the more experienced, but their adventures together had closed the gap considerably. Seregil had accepted that they were equals long ago, even if it had taken longer for him to emotionally recognize it.

Alec dropped both boots to the floor. “It wouldn’t be the same without you. Besides, I like the idea of going to Mirror Moon for a time.”

It was easier sometimes to go to their estate. The Aurënfaie they had known still lived, while so many of their friends in Skala did not. Of the ones Alec had first met when he arrived in Rhíminee, only Thero was left. The others were long gone. And as for Nyal, his friend Beka’s Aurënfaie husband, he had a tendency to wander now that Beka was dead and his children grown.

He and Seregil both had grown more accustomed to death and Seregil had a head start on that, but it was still painful.

Seregil nudged Alec’s hand with his foot and Alec idly rubbed it.

“It is nice there.” Seregil sighed. “I don’t know, Alec.”

“If you’d fallen from any higher you might have done worse than hurt your back.” Alec pointed out. He refrained from mentioning that it never would have happened when they were in their prime. He knew they were both aware of that fact.

“Illior favors me.”

“Luck won’t last you forever.”

Seregil shrugged. “It’s lasted me this long.” He closed his eyes. “So good with your hands, talí. How about putting them to better use?”

“Oh?” Alec was surprised that Seregil would suggest such a thing while in pain. He had never tolerated it well, but the other ‘faie was good at seeking distraction.

Seregil cracked his eyes open. “On my back.” He clarified.

“Oh.” Alec let go of Seregil’s foot.

When Seregil moved to take off his tunic, Alec batted his hands aside.

“Let me,” he said and pulled it off over his lover’s head.

Seregil lay down on his front and Alec leaned over him. He pressed a kiss to Seregil’s shoulder blade before gently pressing his palms to his talímenios’s spine and moving them outwards.

Seregil moaned appreciatively. After a time, Alec suspected he was halfway to sleep, but then he heard him speak softly.

“Not yet, talí. Soon, but not yet.”

Alec smiled. “Not yet.” He repeated.

Illior would watch over them until Seregil was ready.


End file.
